Rendezvous
by Soggy Phoenix
Summary: Armada: Jetfire was out for a peaceful jaunt amongst the stars. Starscream decided that it would have to change. StarscreamJetfire.


Rendezvous

Talented, beautiful, and intelligent. The best slagged flier in all of the Autobot army, perhaps the only flier. It didn't matter as Jetfire embraced the sky, his thrusters and turbines moving in unison to propel him at high speeds. The brittle air around him caressed his wings, curvy and white, shining in the sun, and he smiled. How high, he wondered, could he go? Perhaps even past the barrier that the Earth tried to constrain any flier with. He scoffed once, flying into the air, stretching himself to limits that had never been tested in battle. Free flight was the most singularly liberating experience that any flier let alone Jetfire could feel. Soaring across a battle field was different than this. It was almost pure art.

He swooped in an elegant arc and paused, halfway free from Earth's cloying atmosphere. It beat Charr's, of course, and he grimaced; long nights of pain had been spent there. The air had always been charged with the fire of lasers, not all of them from the enemy. Fliers in the Autobot army were still relatively rare, after all. But Earth was different than most atmospheres that he had experienced. It was a lot calmer and had organic life dispersed freely throughout. It was difficult to travel at any low altitude, unfortunately, and Jetfire had been forced to fly high above the clouds. Not that he was complaining, and he had very little to complain over: the view was better from up on high.

He turned his attention back to the stars above him, golden optics focused on the waning light of the sun, and he activated his thrusters once more. He flew and flew, leaving the ground behind, uncaring of what lay there. The other Autobots didn't understand the joy of being in the sky, couldn't care less about any wind patterns that Jetfire alone was mercy to. There was no comprehension when they listened to him, their optics distant and their mouths pressed into a thin line. None of them cared, and it was with a light spark that Jetfire left them behind.

He burst into space and floated for a long time, staring at the great expanse of planets behind him. Silence met his optics, the vacuum of space offering a peace that he rarely sought. Jetfire loved bluster and noise, being the center of attention, but even he grew tired of the glances. He glanced around, thoughtful, looking at the stars. He wondered idly if he could ever catch one, dispelled it, looked around again. It was beautiful, and he cradled it in his thoughts as a picture to remember. Earth may have had the worst atmosphere, but the space around it was gorgeous.

"Glad I'm a spacecraft," he remarked across the private comm to Optimus. There was no response, wouldn't be, Optimus knowing that his second needed some time to be alone. So his words went unheeded by his leader and friend, no response but a faint burst of static as an acknowledgement. Jetfire smiled, knew it was a message: yes, Jetfire, you are heard. "It's nice up here, you know. I should take you up one day."

Another burst of static, shorter than the last. Jetfire laughed. "Yea, I guess you'd hate it. Ground crawler," it was an old joke that had grown stale between them, Jetfire always breaking some boundary that Optimus set upon him. Don't leave the atmosphere. Don't go flying off into battle without reinforcements. Wait for the rest of us. Jetfire was a flier, faster than the cars down below, crawling along the surface of whatever planet they were on while he raced along the skies. It had landed him into more ambush than one, but he was strong enough to handle his own, something that Optimus failed to see clearly. No one saw the strength hidden behind the easy and joking facade until it was too late and they were either terminated or torn from the sky. With ease Jetfire hid himself behind carefully constructed walls that only the promise of flight or fight could dissolve. Safe, perfect, intelligent. No one saw past them, and no one ever tried. Not even Optimus, who had the clearance to, could see into Jetfire's mind when they combined.

Jetfire rested on an asteroid and stared at space, drifting along slowly. It was peaceful up here, quiet, and Jetfire could just hear his own voice and static for joors upon joors. "I don't know what you see in keeping your wheels on the ground," he remarked, calm for one of the few times he ever was. "It's an advantage that we should possess as much as the enemy, being able to swoop overhead."

Silence, pure and golden, was his reward and he took the hint, spiraling out into the comforting vacuum of space once more. He drifted down into the atmosphere, knew that his patrol would soon start, reluctant to leave the silence just yet. Pride tempted him sorely, pointing back to the sky and taunting him. How far could he go, it crowed, before he collapsed from pure exhaustion and hated his weakness? Fly, it urged, fly as far and as hard as you can. Prove yourself.

It took a very careful hand for Jetfire to contain it and he slowly turned back to Earth. "Coming back in now, sir," he reported, the playful tone slipping away into the tone of a soldier. It was what he had been since the day of his creation, in the end. A soldier. Static met his audios and faded, giving him the permission he needed. Jetfire flew up and angled himself into a dive, preparing for the task of reentering the atmosphere, optics already searching for somewhere to cool himself.

A laser grazed his wing, sending small jolts of pain down into his mainframe. Jetfire winged back in alarm, hands quickly fondling his favorite weapon, his laser shooter. The mystery assailant was nowhere in view and Jetfire began to drift, knew it was some Decepticon ready to play, his senses heightening in anticipation. Jetfire knew what the thrill of hunting was and at times fully accepted it, drifting or walking until his prey was caught between a wall and Jetfire himself. It was the Decepticon in him that enjoyed pointing the gun and watching the trapped mech tremble. It was the stronger Autobot in him that extended the hand of friendship. He could never really forget that.

"Come out, Decepticon," Jetfire called across an open comm, staring down at an asteroid. Whoever it was had a talent in hiding their energy signature and Jetfire felt his respect for his assailant increase marginally. Skilled or not, the Decepticon was still being a coward, hiding behind an asteroid and a signal dampener. Jetfire huffed and turned, too impatient to deal with a 'Con that had a yellow streak. His patrol was about to begin, and Blurr would glare if Jetfire was late again.

He turned away, prepared for a dive once more, halted at the roar of an engine, purposely broadcasted across his private channels. There was Starscream, Decepticon air commander, just the one Jetfire longed to race into defeat. The red and white jet was leaning against an asteroid casually, one hand covering his mouth, and Jetfire realized the seeker was actually yawning. The game of cat and mouse had suddenly shifted, but Jetfire was still the larger of the two. He grinned and fondled his gun, raising it right at Starscream's chestplates. Pure and undeniable mirth bubbled up inside of him and he felt giddy, ready to pummel Starscream into oblivion.

"Shoot, then, if you have the guts to shoot an unarmed enemy," Starscream leaned back with a smirk, holding up both of his hands. They were indeed empty and Jetfire lowered his weapon a fraction of an inch, slowly bringing it back to his side. "You," Starscream said scornfully, "are pathetic."

"Excuse me?" Jetfire bristled, leaning forward with an aggressive shift of his bulk. How comforting it was to be larger than the attacker, he thought smugly. "I'm not the one who was hiding behind asteroids, Screamer. You should, uh, rethink your opinion, I think. After all, you're not the almighty air commander that everyone must fear anymore," he leaned back and folded his arms, floating a little higher than Starscream. "Dare I say that the fearsome Decepticon warrior may even have a spark?"

"What nonsense are you spewing now, Autobot?" Starscream was tolerably mocking, throwing his head back in a parody of a proud and defiant soldier. "I did not seek you out to hear your ramblings."

"Then why," Jetfire countered, drifting closer, "did you seek me out, Starscream? Can't be for my conversation, as wonderful as it is to hear. So why?" He drifted even closer, keeping his optics trained on the lithe frame in front of him, next to him. Starscream's head followed Jetfire's slow, predatory movements, and the seeker grinned now, reached out a hand. Grey fingers ghosted along the edges of Jetfire's wings and the shuttle jumped back, pointed his gun and snarled inarticulately.

"What's wrong?" That tilt of the head was far too superior and mocking to be anything but a challenge, and Jetfire was no longer sure if the engagement was what he thought it was. His neural circuits were still trying to digest the touch that was not even remotely hostile enough. "Is the little Autobot frazzled and confused?" Starscream laughed and Jetfire pointed his gun once more, finding his voice amidst his confusion.

"What do you want, Decepticon?" he all but snarled, planting himself as firmly as he could. There was no more drifting around Starscream and he was determined to keep the seeker in his line of fire at all times. "I don't have time to play your games, alright? Either come in quietly or get lose. I'm not going to waste time with your slagging aft."

Starscream nodded once and drifted close, hands flashing and throwing the blaster into the distance. It floated out of reach, useless, and before Jetfire could move towards it, Starscream clamped his lips over Jetfire's own. Electricity flew through the connection and their thrusters activated, blasting them away from the asteroid into the space beyond. Starscream's hands were frustratingly quick, already bypassing any defense that Jetfire attempted to place. The shuttle attempted to backwing and escape the embrace, but his lips were locked into place, his processor perversely enjoying the act. Starscream had the advantage and tilted them downward, stroking Jetfire's working turbines with harsh jerks. Jetfire's hands finally began to move, running along the wide expanse of wing panel before him, moans mingling with the heat of the atmosphere.

His battle computer onlined itself, roused by the increasing arousal and alarm, and his code took over for him, a blessed relief. Starscream was nimble, but not enough to escape Jetfire's hands greedily clutching at whatever he could reach. Pleasure skyrocketed as Starscream's mouth moved from Jetfire's to his wings, and then even to his turbines, glossa scraping across the heated metal. Jetfire's processor shorted out and his hands tightened around Starscream's legs, bringing the seeker into him. They tumbled through the air, the heat from entering the atmosphere enveloping them.

It was over too soon and Jetfire let Starscream break away, still basking in the glory of the overload. Glowing waves of pleasure still washed through every system of his body, and he gave an undignified squawk and Starscream's amused snort. The second in command stared at the Decepticon and arched an optic ridge in question.

"You're not so tough when you've been overloaded," Starscream explained, already looking back to the moon. "Though you respond with a fervor worthy of a Decepticon," Starscream transformed and hovered for a moment more than he oight have, at last speeding off. Jetfire hovered for a moment, knew there was more, and was rewarded for his patience, such a rare virtue with him.

"You almost seem like you could be a Decepticon... could." The comm closed but did not erase itself, an open invitation to continue their little rendezvous later. Jetfire turned away and at last began to lower himself to the ground, twitching as residual energy flowed through his circuits. It would be like this for the whole of the patrol, he realized smugly.

"Jetfire?" Optimus was tentative, and Jetfire backflipped as he answered. "Oh. Blurr was wondering where you were," he hesitated and continued slowly. "I lost you on my radar for a moment. Are you doing well?"

Jetfire paused, finding the words to answer, and shrugged. "Yea, I'm alright, Optimus. Permission to relieve Blurr, sir?"

Optimus' voice flooded with relief, "Consider it granted, old friend," and Jetfire swooped down below, waving Blurr off, watching out for birds and trees as he flew. Another comm opened, the one used before, and Starscream's voice flowed into Jetfire's audios.

"Up for another meeting later, Autobot?"

"Always, Decepticon."


End file.
